


The Ballad of Two-Edge

by wingthing



Series: The EQ Alternaverse [11]
Category: Elfquest
Genre: EQ Alternaverse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4694585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingthing/pseuds/wingthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A millennia-spanning tale of everyone's favorite half-troll... with an Alternaverse twist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

His first memory is of her face. She is sitting next to him, wearing nothing but her long black hair. She is dangling a little ball of feathers on a string to still his cries, and she is smiling. What a beautiful smile his mother has. It lights up her ivory face – her beautiful, heart-shaped face with its rounded cheekbones and tightly pinched chin. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” she coos gently. Her eyes are shining – her stormy eyes that change colour with her every mood. Sometimes they are gray-blue, sometimes purple, sometimes gold. But in this first memory they are a shade of turquoise that burns like unearthly fire against her near-white skin and her dark hair. 

“My beautiful... precious little son,” she whispers. 

His father is nearby. He can feel the troll’s shadow across him. But all he sees is his mother. 

“How I love you... my Two-Edge,” she croons. 

* * * 

Screams echo in the room. Two-Edge fights against the cage Door has made for him. He sees his father fall. She is burning his flesh with her stare. Again she wears nothing but her hair. It is longer now. It falls to the floor around her, like the feathered gown she usually wore. 

Two-Edge thinks of her hair. He cannot bear to think of the pain Smelt feels. 

“Mother! Mother, stop! Stop it, please, I’m begging you!” 

Door lies on the ground, bound in crude bonds of leather and fur. Smelt tried to kidnap him. He tried to take the rock-shaper back to his king in the troll caverns... far away to the north. No. Winnowill will not let Father take the rock-shaper. Door is her rock-shaper, no one else’s. How could Father betray her like this, after all the years she had tended to him? 

Father is wrong. Very wrong. But Mother is hurting him. Mother is killing him. 

“Stop!” Two-Edge screams. 

Smelt’s gray-green skin is all red now. Huge boils have spread over his body. Now they are merging into a grotesque blistered shell. It doesn’t even look like skin anymore. 

“Mother! Mother!” 

Smelt collapses to the ground. He is nothing but a steaming piece of burned meat. The smell is unbearable. Two-Edge turns and vomits. Still the body is burning. It turns dark brown and finally hardens to a blackened cast of cinders. 

“I hate you!” Two-Edge screams. “Murderess!” 

Winnowill crouches on the ground, looking at her dead lovemate. She is no longer angry. If anything, she is curious. Curious... about death, about pain... about torment. Curiousity – yes, Two-Edge knows that emotion well. Winnowill’s curiosity drives her in everything. 

“Be quiet,” Winnowill hisses. 

“I hate you! Elf-witch! Snake! I hate you! I hate you! I am a troll forever!” 

“Be quiet and I will release you.” 

“Why did you kill him? Why did you do this? I hate you, I hate you!” 

“Silence!” 

Two-Edge screams wildly. No words, only the raw scream of a wounded child. He screams and screams, as if to bring down the mountain with his agony. 

“Silence! Silence!” Winnowill screams back. “I will make you quiet!” 

Pain flares in Two-Edge’s mind. Agonizing pain. Spiders scuttle over his skin. Fire burns behind his eyes. A screaming animal struggles against the inside of his skull. So many kinds of pain, from the subtle to the grotesque. All blending together, but all sharp and distinct. He screams louder. The pain increases. He forces his eyes open and sees Winnowill, still crouched over the corpse of Smelt. 

“Stop and the pain will stop,” she whispers coldly. 

Stop... stop and accept. Help her destroy the remains of his poor father, live on as her pet... act as though he hasn’t seen this brutality, hasn’t smelled his father’s seared flesh... 

“I hate you!” 

“Obey me...” 

“NEVER!” Two-Edge screams, finding a strength he didn’t know he had. 

* * * 

Two-Edge sits alone in his little cave. His room is small – he needs little. A bed of furs and stream of water flowing through the underground veins that pierced the mountain’s heart... and a quick access to Winnowill’s private chambers. Oh yes, even now, he likes to keep her under watch. 

The games... the games have ended long ago. Winnowill has won... but only for now. Yes, yes, Two-Edge is but a broken shell now. She has cut away his spirit and left him with mere tatters of a soul. But she has only won for the moment. Two-Edge has learned how to play the game as well as she. And he will have his revenge. 

Mother never smiles anymore. She hasn’t smiled since Smelt died. 

Part of him still wishes to see that smile again. 

No! Weakness. He has to be strong. Had he been weak, he would have broken long before. But he has a heart forged of stone that cannot be shaped by elfin magic. He has survived all the torments, all the games... products of her cruel “curiosity.” He will not break now. 

The sword holds the key. And the sword is coming to Blue Mountain. Winnowill has no idea what she unleashed when she sent the Chosen Eight to capture the Wolfriders who shot down Kureel’s bond-bird. She lives in the haze of her own perceived superiority. But she will fall. 

The lord of the Wolfriders is coming to Blue Mountain. 

* * * 

Winnowill has kidnapped the child – the little sunny sun-top. She has left the other child, the dark mirror, the little girl. The Chosen Eight have attacked the Wolfriders and Winnowill has poisoned Lord Voll with her dark thoughts. 

Winnowill runs across the floor, clutching Suntop to her breast. Venka is hanging on to the hem of her robe, shooting sending stars into Winnowill’s brain. Winnowill falters with each step. Venka is only a little mump, but she can make Winnowill stagger. Oh... what she might grow up to be. 

Swift appears. She leaps over the table and sprints towards Winnowill. Her sword is drawn – the moon sword is thirsty for blood. 

“Winnowill!” 

Winnowill reaches the large statue, the dancing birds shaped out of stone. “Two-Edge! Two-Edge!” 

He obeys. He must obey. For now. 

The statue shatters, and Winnowill steps onto the base of the statue, even as the pieces of rock rain down around her. Oh, what a leer of delighted cruelty touches her face. She glows from within, glows with luminous poison, like the sun that laughs at a creature dying of thirst. 

“Mother!” Suntop screams. Swift is almost there. Rayek is close on her heels. 

The pillar sinks into Two-Edge’s tunnel, and Winnowill disappears. Swift leaps. But she is not fast enough. Already the pillar is sliding up again. Swift can only lock eyes with her son before she is forced up the shaft. 

“My cub!” Swift screams, beating on the pillar. “She has my cub!” 

She turns and runs back into the dining chamber. Hidden in his own tunnels, Two-Edge listens as she pores out her rage on her kin. “All of you here and you couldn’t save him?! Skywise – where were you? Stealing pleasure with Aroree when you might have been the one to save Suntop?” 

The auburn-haired elf protests. “But... we didn’t... well, see... we were fighting... and –” 

“Too full of dreamberries to stand up, let alone fight!” Rayek shouts. “Fine warrior you make, Pike!” 

“Well... where have you been, anyway?” Pike challenges. 

Ooh, bravery from such a little squirrel. 

“I just had a brush with Winnowill myself – and I beat her! But like a fool I let her go, because I thought my cubs were safe with you!” 

Most of the elves bow their heads. But not all. “That’s not fair!” Eyes High snaps back. “We don’t all have your powers, Swift. Nor do we have yours, Rayek! One look from Winnowill and we were lucky to keep our very souls. We tried! Don’t think we didn’t.” 

Swift backs down. Two-Edge chuckles. Ahh... she has Bearclaw’s temper. But unlike him, she can be turned from anger. 

“It’s done, now,” Swift says. “Now... bird-elf.” She turns on Tyldak, seizes a wing, and presses her knee against it. “Tell me where that she-snake took my son.” 

“I don’t know!” Tyldak gasps out. 

“Swift, stop it!” Dewshine cries. Does she feel Tyldak’s pain, now that they are Recognized? 

“There are places in this mountain known only to Winnowill. She will return the child to you when you and your tribe have left our domain for good.” 

“No trade! I won’t be ordered about by her. I want Suntop now!” 

“Tyldak, please tell us how to find him.” 

Swift releases Tyldak. She turns away. Is she sending? Yes. She is sending for the archer. Two-Edge nods. A smart little chief. 

The archer comes back with his woman. The Wolfriders gather around the pillar. And Swift raises her voice. 

“Two-Edge! Two-Edge! I am Swift! The moon sword is still mine, key and all. Answer me!” 

Two-Edge chuckles. 

“Where is my son, sword-maker? Speak, or I’ll cut your laughter short with your own handiwork!” 

“Swift-elf! Daughter of Bearclaw.... Swift-elf, keen blade, tempered where there was no shade, tempered in the desert fire... what is that you desire?” 

“What do you think? My son, you crazy half-troll! If there is any honour left in your elf blood–” 

Two-Edge slaps his belly. “My elf blood?” And he throws the switch. The pillar sinks, and Swift falls. 

The half-troll smiles. He will show mother that his two edges are still sharp. 

* * * 

Winnowill is limping. The archer has shot her. The Wolfriders are closing. Rayek is close on her heels. Venka is hanging to his shoulders. Together, they shoot a powerful sending star. Winnowill runs towards her chambers. She runs for her Door. Door... the same rock-shaper she killed his father over. Door could defend himself a little, then. He was always weak, but then he could able to run, and he could shape weapons. Now he is just a mushroom – a weak little creature who can’t even raise his arms. He was easy to dispose of. 

“Door! Open!” Winnowill commands. 

“Winnowill!” Rayek shouts. “Give me my son, she-snake!” 

“Door, I ordered you to open! How dare y–” 

Winnowill looks up. Two-Edge leans out of the shadows. She sees him. And she afraid. 

Ohh... how delicious. A look of pure terror on her face, her beautiful pearly face. 

Winnowill turns from Rayek. She flees. Two-Edge disappears back into his tunnel. He must follow. He wants to be there when she is defeated. He wants to see her brought down. 

“I am still mightier than you and your savage friends!” Winnowill screams as she staggers up the staircase. Rayek is but four or five steps behind her. She holds the child between them like a shield. He struggles, but Winnowill’s delicate hand holds his wrist tight. 

“You have nothing now!” Rayek spits. “No one! Release him, or you will lose your life as well.” 

“I have my power.” She stares at him with that look Two-Edge knows so well. Rayek crumples, crying out in pain. 

“Stop it!” Venka cries. Winnowill shudders. Her hold on Rayek falters. 

Oh... what a bright little child. Why didn’t Two-Edge have her to help him... all those years ago? 

Winnowill can’t hold Suntop anymore. He tumbles free and scrambles down the stairs to his father. 

“Rayek!” Swift screams. She leads the Wolfriders up the stairs. They are almost there. 

Venka glares at Winnowill. The two are battling in the invisible world Two-Edge can never quite know. He watches as the little child holds out her hand for Rayek. Together they stare Winnowill down. She is backing away now, whimpering in pain. 

They were going to win. The girl and her father would strike Winnowill down. And then... oh, then... 

What would happen then? 

Fear grips Two-Edge as he watches Winnowill backing away. She won’t let them win. Not like this. She won’t let the Wolfriders take her prisoner. She won’t let the red-haired healer lay his hands on her. 

She makes her choice. 

“Winnowill!” Rayek cries. 

“No!” Suntop gasps. 

“Timmorn’s blood!” someone shouts. 

Winnowill falls to the floor, well over fifty feet below. It would kill anyone else. But already she is healing herself. She is crawling towards the darkened doorway, towards Two-Edge. 

Two-Edge laughs. “Where are his bones? My father’s bones?” 

“Two-Edge... help me...” she whispers. 

Two-Edge only laughs. Help her – help her? Hah! Did she ever help him when the madness threatened to take the last of his tattered soul? Did she ever offer any kindness? 

“Help me... my son...” she gasps. 

Two-Edge falls silent for a moment. She hasn’t called him that in years. 

Two-Edge retreats back into the tunnel. No. No. He has other things to do. 

But she follows him... crawling... whimpering. 

He means to go out to the aerie. But instead he doubles back to her room. He will wait for her. 

 

* * * 

Winnowill lies on her bed, moaning. Her ribs haven’t healed completely. Her blood flows so slowly. She is weak. He could strike her now, strike her down, destroy her flesh as she destroyed Father’s. But he can’t. He knows that. And so he only smiles. 

“It has begun again.” 

“No...” Winnowill gasps. “You promised! You swore you would not interfere.” 

“Time and the young Wolfrider chieftain – not I – have shattered you and your world. I merely waited. The waiting is all, Mother.” 

He has not called her that... not since she called him “son.” 

It is only fair. 

Two-Edge always plays fair. Always. 

* * * 

He plays fair during what the elves call the Palace War. He does. This war is elf against troll. This war will decide whose blood he holds. But it must be fair. The trolls are stronger in numbers, stronger in body. So he gives the elves little treats to even the score. He gives Swift the secret entrance to the troll caves. He gives the elves armour – gleaming brightmetal armour and fancy new weapons. But the elves don’t play fair. They are angry with him. They sneer at his gifts. And now they ally with Picknose and the other trolls. Now they use the rockshaper and the airwalking Rayek to give them the edge. 

No! The edges must be equally sharpened. The scales must be balanced. So Two-Edge balances the scales for them. He steals Ekuar and destroyed the stone bridge the cheating elf had built. The elf-allied trolls are trapped on the other side of the broken bridge. 

“The odds are now even! The rules are my own!” he shouts. 

Cheating elves! Well, they will have to play by his rules now. Two-Edge slings the sack on his shoulder and ignores the struggles of the rock-shaper. Now the battle can commence. 

Two-Edge races back to the throne room. He watches as the elves attack. How beautiful they look clad in troll armour. They almost look like worthy opponents. Maybe... maybe the elves will win after all. Maybe they will prove to him that they are the more worthy blood. 

No. No... he can never quite believe that. Guttlekraw will surely win. 

The elves rush in. Their wolves charge. The trolls scatter. 

“Yes! YES!” Two-Edge screams. “Oh, yes!” Tears run down his face. “I have outdone you, Mother! What game of yours ever matched this?” 

Blood spills. It is Swift who draws the first blood. But soon the elves fall alongside the trolls. Soon the Go-Backs are dropping everywhere. Soon Two-Edge loses sight of Swift in the melee. Those of my father’s race seem to be gaining ground, he thinks. Good. That sits well with me. At least they are honest in their greed. 

No. Mustn’t think of Winnowill and her many betrayals. Not now. This is a triumph. This is– 

The rockshaper! 

“Gaaah! My feet!” 

The rockshaper has broken an arm free. He has shaped the stone around the halfling. Two-Edge is encased in rock. It presses all around him painfully. 

No! He will not be held prisoner by the rock again. Not again. 

Mother! 

The rockshaper in his bag falls away. Two-Edge is helpless. He can only stand and watch. Screams are everywhere. The Preservers shoot wrapstuff into the faces of the trolls. The Wolfriders and the Go-Backs muster a second attack. The wolves run rampant. 

“You!” Two-Edge turns. He sees Ekuar and Rayek. They are trying to raise the metal door. But Ekuar cannot help metal. “Rock-shaper!” Unstick me and I will grant your fondest wish. I will show you how to reach the castle.” 

“Hah!” Rayek shoots back. “You promise what we already have, deceiver!” 

Rayek is floating the metal! He is making it rise. 

NO! This wasn’t how it ought to be. 

“Hah hah ha ha! Run, you old stinkwind, run!” Picknose screams. 

The trolls are losing. Two-Edge is trapped. They will come for him next. 

“Hsss! No! Not me! Not me–” 

Two-Edge spins around. The rock bites into his ankles. 

Guttlekraw is dead and mutilated. 

The battle is over. 

No one comes for Two-Edge. He sits alone atop the ledge as the survivors celebrate below. No one sees him, it seems. 

“I’ve lost! I lost the game! Troll aided elf against troll! Nothing is decided. How shall I know what I am?” 

* * * 

They dance for their dead. They take their dead and give them to the snow. The elves don’t see Two-Edge pry himself from the rock. They don’t see him limp away, with feet mangled and bleeding. They don’t, but someone else does. 

* * * 

“Well, friend Two-Edge,” Picknose laughs as the guards drag the wounded halfling before the new king. “You played your game, here in the Frozen Mountains, but now it’s done. The little war you set us and the elves to didn’t finish quite as you expected, did it? How does it feel to lose? I wouldn’t know, myself, as you can see.” 

Have you forgotten the lash of the whip, Picknose? Clearly Guttlekraw was too soft. A good master never lets his pets forget their lessons. 

“What’s the matter, half-elf? Is your tongue pulped like your feet?” 

Mother... Mother... you were right. I cannot play the game like you. Where are you? Help me, please. Take pity on your son. 

They drag him back to his armoury. They want him to make new weapons for them. They want to make him their new master smith – their new pet. 

“NO!” Two-Edge screams. He breaks for the secret tunnel above the statue of Winnowill. He can hide. He can escape. He always has before. 

“Fools!” Picknose yells. 

“The statue!” someone shouts. “If he gets to the door above it–” 

Two-Edge scrambles madly over the steps. He reaches the statue. He is crying. 

He is a small child again. 

“Mother – help me!” 

Hands seize him. Hands pull him from her. 

“NO! Nooo....” 

“He’s drooling mad, my king. No use to us at all.” 

Who is talking? Yes, the guards. 

“Mad, yes. But clever too. I don’t like that.” 

They cast him into the snow. Picknose taunts him. He will die in the snow until he brings back the rock-shaper. If he obeys he will live happily as master smith. If he fails the Go-Backs will eat his freeze-dried corpse. 

“Mother...” Two-Edge whimpers. 

They toss him a staff. It lands in the snow next to him. 

“Mother...” 

He should die in the snow. No one wants him anymore. Not the elves, not the trolls... no one. Why does he pick up that staff? Why does he start to move? He should just die. But... somehow, he finds the strength. Daggers of pain lance up from his feet. The ice stabs him through his flimsy wrappings. Such pain... 

He has endured worse. He will endure this. 

Why? Why life? 

Because death would be weakness. And he will never be weak. 

He trudges through the snow. 

He tries to think of the rhymes – those comforting rhymes that always have him strength. But they are gone. He can form no words. A day passes as he hikes through the snow... up the mountainside. A day, then another. His feet crack with each step. His muscles scream. His fingers go numb from cold. 

The memories remain. The cage. The screams. The smell. 

The smell of his father’s seared body. 

He screams. He does not stop. 

Winnowill could never silence him. No mere storm would now. 

* * * 

How long has Two-Edge been walking? He has long since lost track of time. He barely registers the pain as the snow swallows his broken, bloodied feet, over and over. He barely notices the ice crystals that pierce his flesh. There is no time anymore. Now, like pain, time is beyond all measurement. He walks on, his head bowed to the wind. 

He falls forward. The snow will welcome him. The cold will comfort him. 

“Hoooi!” 

Something falls atop him. Something pushes him into the cold snow. 

“NO!” Two-Edge screams. He knows this torment, this game. 

Winnowill is toying with his mind. He thinks he is covered with gnawing creatures. But there are not real. Yes, they are! They are real! In the prison of his mind, everything is real. 

“MOTHER!” he screams. 

“Come on,” the rats hiss. “Let’s take him to the black-hair.” 

“NO! Don’t take me to her! Please! Please – not to HER!” 

The little maggots race all over his flesh. They crawl under his scanty robe. They nip at his flesh. 

“Kahvi! Kahvi, look what we have!” 

“Let me be! Let me go! Please... oh... please...” 

“Hah! Let’s show him off. Rayek will get a lark out of this!” 

“Rats and spiders! Rats and spiders!” 

“This will tear him from his bear-poking Scroll of Colors.” 

“NO! Maggots! Off me. Leave me! Rats and spiders!” 

He is being dragged somewhere. He swats with his staff, but the creatures do not release him. He is being carried on a bed of centipedes and spiders. They are taking him back to her – to the queen of insects! 

“Look black-hair! Here’s an old friend we have seen for a few days!” 

“Rats and spiders! Maggots! Crawling things, leave off gnawing my arms, my legs!” 

“Heh, we fished him out of a snowdrift near our new lodge!” 

“Two-Edge! Still alive.” 

“And still shooting with an unstrung bow! Just listen.” 

The maggots release him. He collapses to the ground. He looks up, and he sees her. She stand before him... lessened somewhat. She is barely taller than he now. Her hair... it no longer flows to the ground. But it is her! He knows her. He sees her cold eyes. They are golden now. They turn gold when she is angry. Well he knows it. 

She only stares at him. 

“It is nothing, Mother. Do you hear? You cannot win this way... you will fail...” 

He reaches up, seizes a hank of her hair. “Black... smooth... yessss. Where are his bones... my father’s bones! What have you done with them.... Mother?” 

The rats and spiders and maggots fall into laughter. The walls are laughing at him. 

“What ails you, half-troll?” Winnowill pronounces. 

“All troll!” he screams. He draws back. “I am none of you. Mate-killer! Young-eating carrion bird! I am all troll!” 

Winnowill stares down at him. There is pity in her eyes now. 

“No, no...” Two-Edge whimpers. He cannot deny her stare. He blinks again. There is a new creature standing behind Winnowill. Shorter, weak armed. Door? 

“No... I am... your son. I am a high one... the low blood does not cancel the high... the game... my game... is finished!” 

He looks up. He sees the beautiful shapes carved into the stone walls. “Look... see what we built for you, Father and I. Your own secret kingdom in the depths of Blue Mountain. No rock-shaper can match the work of a troll who sets his heart to it. Hear? His heart! No one will ever see all this but you, Mother... and Door there! It is yours! YOURS!” 

He limps up to Winnowill. He gazes deep into her eyes. 

“Now... give it back to me – my mind! M-my self! For pity, end your game! I am your son!” 

He collapses. He clutches her slender leg. He weeps. 

“If ever we wished revenge on Two-Edge, that wish was granted long ago...” 

“Yes. Where is Rain?” 

“Rain... rain never falls in here... traitorous rain... water can not wash away the pain.” 

“We must summon him – and Swift. They must see this.” 

“Mother.... Mother....” 

Two-Edge lies there. Winnowill has knelt down next to him. Door touches his hair gently. What new game was this? Winnowill knows no pity. Winnowill is above all kindness. 

“What is this?” 

“Two-Edge. Please, Swift, he needs a healing. Is Rain here?” 

“He’s coming, Ekuar.” 

“Voices...” Two-Edge whimpers. “Voices in the shadows... my father... where is his voice? Voices in the shadows...” 

“Two-Edge! That lying, murderous troll!” 

“Whoa! Easy, cousin. What’s gotten into you?” 

“My father died because of him!” 

“Shh, Dewshine. Look at him. He needs our pity, not our hatred.” 

“Swift, how can you say that?” 

Two-Edge sobs softly. 

Someone lays hands on Two-Edge’s white hair. Two-Edge winces. Cold hands – cold like hers. No... no, not cold. Cool... cool as fresh water... “Mother?” he whispers. 

“Shh....” 

Something falls over his head. Rain... no... no, it is not cool anymore... now it’s warm and soothing... like the little baths Mother used to prepare for him. Yes, yes, Two-Edge remembers those days. It seems now that he remembers them even more sharply. The mist clears, and he sees himself as a little child again... an innocent. 

He sees her smile. 

A sob wells in his throat. It breaks loose. He weeps freely now. But the hands do not withdraw... Winnowill does not leave. The warmth doesn’t retreat. 

“Shh... my good child... my cubling...” 

Arms encircle him. Two-Edge sags against them. 

“Ayooah, ayooah... the pack has feasted well...” the voice sings. 

All the old pain rises and breaks. Two-Edge weeps against his mother’s arms. 

“There.. there... my good child... my sweet little son...” 

The fog lifts... for the first time the sunlight reaches the depths of Blue Mountain. 

Two-Edge looks up. Winnowill is gone. He isn’t in Blue Mountain. He’s somewhere else... the castle! He’s in the elves’ castle! Where once stood Winnowill there is Rayek. Door is now the rock-shaper Ekuar. Swift Keen-Blade stands over him. And sitting on the ground with him is the auburn-whiskered healer, Rain. 

“Where... what is this?” Two-Edge asks. 

“You’re in the Palace,” Swift says. “It’s been six days since the war ended and we left you in Guttlekraw’s throne room. What has happened to you?” 

“False king... King Picknose... sent me... take rock-shaper... or die... in snow. Trolls... they want the rock-shaper. If I bring him back... they will make me their master smith. They will take care of me. If not... the snow.” 

Swift snorts. “Well, I see Picknose’s manners haven’t improved.” 

“What do we do with him?” a Go-Back asks. 

“You don’t need to go back to Picknose now,” Rain says. “You can stay here with us. We will take care of you.” 

“What? No!” Dewshine cries. “He warned the trolls about us! He started this war!” 

“Shh,” Swift snaps. 

Rain frames Two-Edge’s face in his cool hands. “Stay with us, Two-Edge. We will chase the last of Winnowill’s torments from your mind.” 

“Glider...” Two-Edge looks up at Rayek. “Swift-elf...” 

Swift smiles bittersweetly. “You caused us much pain, half-troll. But I see Winnowill has caused you even greater sorrow. That pain-dealer holds no sway here. Tyldak has already sundered Blue Mountain to live here with us. We have room for you as well.” 

“Let me look at those feet,” Rain says. “Agh... I... I’m tired. It may take a while, but I should be able to heal them.” He smiles. “Soon there will be no more pain, Two-Edge. Your healing begins now.” 

Healing... 

Can there ever be healing for Two-Edge? Can his soul ever be patched back together? 

Rain and Swift help him to his feet. Now the twins have arrived, and they hide behind their father, watching the half-troll warily. 

Children... children who are wanted... who are loved. 

Children who know only love... and their parents’ smiling faces. 

Two-Edge manages a clumsy smile. Dewshine recoils, but Suntop and Venka stare back calmly. 

“Yes...” Two-Edge mumbles. “A healing...”


	2. Part Two

Life is hard, at first. Two-Edge doesn’t understand this new world. He can’t understand why Rain comes to his room every day, massaging his broken feet with this healing powers until the bones gradually begin to heal normally again. He can’t fathom why Rain’s pretty lifemate Moonsbreath brings him fresh bear-fat broth. Kindness... compassion... none of it makes any sense. 

Two-Edge has a small room near the door to the Palace, and he seldoms leaves it at first. His bed is a stone slab covered in soft furs. His belongings sit on a stone shelf. Wolfriders bring him food. Sometimes Venka or Suntop peaks inside and asks to come in and talk. 

Children – children are everywhere. Go-Back young run around happily. Many of the females are starting to swell as the first year passes. There will be more young soon. Tyldak’s mate Dewshine is now growing a little fatter every day. The bird-elf is so happy. He can’t wait to hold his baby son. 

Did Winnowill long to hold her son as Two-Edge grew in her womb? Or did she feel nothing but a cold curiosity, as though watching ants scurry along the walls of the deeper caves? 

Some Wolfriders live in the Palace. Others sleep out in caves dug in the frozen ground and shaped into the roots of the softwood trees. Rayek is always in the Scroll Chamber, studying the strange elfin magic. Sometimes Two-Edge watches him. Ever since Rain first touched him, Two-Edge has been learning how to send. Now he is recovering the power of his lost elfin blood. No, the low blood doesn’t cancel the high – so he must then understand the power of the high. 

Suntop and Venka watch the Scroll turning too. Rayek wants Suntop to become Master of Palace one day. How nice it must be, to have such high ambitions for one’s child. 

One night Two-Edge sneaks into the Swift-elf’s room. The family is fast asleep in their large stone bed. How foolish the elves are to sleep so soundly. He could murder them all if he wanted to. But he does not. Instead he stands and watches them. Swift lies on her back, her hair out of its little chief’s topknot. At her right side, Rayek is fast asleep, half-turned towards her. Suntop nuzzles against Rayek’s shoulder while Venka squeezes between her mother and father. 

They all look so happy. 

Madness! Who ever feels joy with their own young, or with their own parents? 

Liar! Two-Edge’s heart rages. You remember. You and Mother and Father, in those few years under Blue Mountain... the laughter, the joy, the nights spent together in the same bed. Those few, precious years... 

Two-Edge staggers away from the door to the wolf-chief’s room. 

 

* * * 

Exhausted, Rayek turns away from the Scroll. He cannot read the colours anymore. Two-Edge watches silently as the palacemaster collapses on the stone bench. 

“Father?” Suntop asks. 

“It’s nothing. I’m weary, is all.” 

“Should I go get Rain?” 

“No, son, I’m fine. Were you going to join your sister? Go, go, don’t waste a worry over me.” Rayek touched Suntop’s cheek. “I’ll come find you later.” 

Suntop runs off. “’Bye, Father, ‘bye Two-Edge!” 

Two-Edge slowly moves towards Rayek. Rayek gives him a weary smile. “You watch my children like a scavenger hawk, half-troll. Do you plan to eat them up one day?” 

Two-Edge sits down, gingerly, on the edge of the bench. The stone is old – the fossilized remnants of the High One’s dead star. It does not quiver under his heavy weight. Daintier wooden structures have been less fortunate. 

“What is it like to have a child?” Two-Edge asks hesitantly. “A wanted child.” 

Rayek blinks. “Do you long for your own?” 

Two-Edge shrugs. He looks down at his hands. They are so rough and calloused under the heavy gloves. “If I had a son... I would always cherish him... I would... never let him forget he is loved. But... but I would surely never have a son. It was enough... of a joke – a cruel joke – for Winnowill to have me! Life is not cruel enough to curse the world with a child of mine.” 

Rayek shrugs. “One never knows.” 

“Bah! Who would ever bear a child to a monster?” 

Rayek is kind enough not to try to answer. Instead he gives Two-Edge a clumsy pat on the back. “All I will say is that Winnowill must truly be mad to inflict such pain on her own child. For I cannot imagine that my love for my children could ever tarnish into such hatred.” 

Two-Edge glares at Rayek abruptly. “And if your daughter killed your mate in front of your eyes – tortured her to death while you were bound helpless? Would you still love her then?” 

Rayek rises. “That will never happen, and so I cannot debate with you, Two-Edge.” 

“Afraid to face it, Glider?” 

“No. Confident I will never have to.” 

“Never is a long time!” 

Rayek gives him a thin smile. “Then perhaps you will have your son one day.” 

Two-Edge hangs his head as the Master of the Palace walks away. Oh, he would love to have a child – a child to hold, to comfort. But what he would not give to be a child again, safe in his mother’s arms. 

 

* * * 

Many young are born, the second death-sleep after the Palace War. First comes Dewshine’s little boy – a floater, a Glider like his father! They call him Windkin, they name him a Wolfrider. But all know his heart – his soulname, they call it – is a Glider’s. 

Pure blood. The other Wolfriders... they are not full elves. Two-Edge knows this. He overheard Winnowill hissing to herself in the darkness of Blue Mountain. They are impure – just like Two-Edge. 

They don’t know that he knows this. 

They are mostly elf... but part wolf as well. 

So they can be both elf and wolf... but why can’t I be both elf and troll? 

He asks Swift this, the night Windkin is born. 

“I can’t tell you, Two-Edge. The answer is in your heart. You have to find the key to unlock it.” 

Two-Edge smiles cruelly. “Only she can unlock this riddle.” 

“Oh... Two-Edge...” 

More young are born. Five Go-Backs are whelped, including a daughter of the white-haired brother of Swift Keen-Blade. How he is smiling, this Skywise, to see his daughter blink up at him with his own silver eyes. 

Cruel joke! That Two-Edge should be surrounded with young. 

He offers, clumsily, to help keep watch over all the babies. The Go-Backs only laugh. But Ekuar understands. The rockshaper forgave Two-Edge for all the pain the halfling caused him, and now he offers Two-Edge a change to help with the babies. He teaches the troll how to cradle a newborn gently. And in time Dewshine lets him climb up to her nest, set up high in the tallest spire of the castle-ship. She lets him sit and watch little Windkin as he smiles, as he nurses, as he laughs. 

A child’s laughter... 

How can something hurt so much, yet feel so good? 

 

* * * 

It is another year later. Rayek is hunting on stagback. Skot and Pike come along. Two-Edge follows a pace behind on his own stag. “We might need that big hammer of yours, crazy brains!” Skot laughs. 

“Don’t call him that,” Pike hisses under his breath. 

They have strayed far from the Palace and the Go-Back’s lodge. They are stalking snowbears. A large one left tracks near the western side of the mountain, and Skot wants to bring its hide back. Paugh! Go-Backs. Yet, in their way they are honourable as trolls. They know what they wanted and they make no attempt to hide it. 

They play fair, at least. 

The Wolfriders are off hunting on their own. Rayek doesn’t like riding wolves and keeps to the stags. Two-Edge imagines he likes to hunt with the Go-Back lad and Pike – the least wolfish Wolfrider of the pack. Some of Wolfrider elders still make Rayek feel the outsider – especially now that he is Master of the Palace. The elders don’t understand the castle-ship. They don’t want to understand. 

Willing blindness. Two-Edge understands it well. 

“Hey, what’s that up there?” Skot asks. He points into the clear spring sky. 

“A bird,” Pike says. “Flying pretty low, huh?” 

Two-Edge looks up. His heart freezes in his chest. 

“That’s no bird,” Rayek breathes. “It’s one of the Gliders’ giant hawks.” 

“The Gliders?” Pike whispers. “Oh, Bearclaw’s beard – not again!” 

Skreeeeawwwww! The bird cries. 

“NO!” Two-Edge screams. 

“Two-Edge–” Rayek begins. He doesn’t hear it. 

“She has come for me! She has not forgotten! I am found! The cell! The games! Rats! Spiders! Pain! PAIN! NOOOOO!” 

He springs from his stag. He runs over the rocky plain. He runs until his heart pounds in his chest. But the bird spots him. Running only made things worse. The bird is curious now... even if its rider is not. 

Curiosity! Cruel, vicious curiosity. 

“Mother...” Two-Edge whimpers as he runs. “No...” 

NOOO! 

The bird swoops down. It snags him in its huge claws. It lifts off into the air, four talons crushing him in a vice. A cage! No! Not again. Two-Edge weeps. “Rayek! Help me!” 

The bird lands on a rocky outcropping. It screams and caws at its prey. “Help!” Two-Edge wails. “The claws! He crushes me! Help me!” 

“Aroree!” Rayek cries, somewhere in the distance. “Aroree – what are you doing here?” 

Rayek floats up onto the cliff’s summit while Pike and Skot can only watch from far below. He rushes to help the troll as the bird’s rider flies down to examine what her mount has caught. 

“Rayek! You... you did not die.” 

“Small thanks to you, dear maiden.” Rayek’s voice drips with ice. “You and your kin abandoned us to the trolls. Now you have returned – and for what purpose, I wonder?” 

“Help me! Stop babbling and help me!” Two-Edge screams. 

“That voice...” the maiden whispers. “The voice from behind the walls. I have heard it often in Blue Mountain – thought I dream it! What are you?” 

“He can answer you better, Glider, if he knows he will not be devoured.” 

At length the claws release, and Rayek tugs Two-Edge free. Two-Edge growls, staggering to his feet. He turns on his tormentor. 

He sees her. 

He has seen this Chosen Eight in shadows and from a distance. But never has he looked up into her haunted eyes before. Her skin is made of the same powder pearl as Winnowill’s. Her limbs are just as long and elegant. But her eyes... they are so sad... tipped with dark golden lashes, brimful of untold ages of slow, carefully administered pain. 

She has suffered... like him. He sees new scars in those sky blue eyes. 

“Now...” Rayek crossed his arms. “Explain yourself, Aroree. The last thing we saw of you was your fleeing backside as the trolls fell upon us!” 

“Please... Rayek... we... we had no choice. We had never seen such war. Our lord was dead... we... couldn’t...” 

“Tyldak found the courage to stay and stand by his fellow elves.” His eyes light up. “Is that it? Have you come looking to drag him back to Winnowill? I imagine she rules the roost now that Voll is dead.” 

“Please!” she cries. “I do not want to go back to Blue Mountain – to her! I came here to escape – but there is no escape. She is inside our minds – always! Always inside... always whispering – oh, the whispers in my mind, Rayek!” 

Two-Edge chokes back a cry. He knows those voices well. 

“Worse than when Lord Voll lived!” Aroree continues. “She feed on more than our dreams. They all sleep – all but the Chosen Eight who keep watch. She feeds off all their energy. She draws on their wills – all to build, to build the Great Egg.” 

“The Egg? What of the Egg?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Aroree collapses to the ground, weeping. Two-Edge kneels down and offers her a hand on her shoulder. Aroree flinches. Two-Edge scowls and looks away. Of course. What maiden would welcome his rough touch? 

“She is always watching the Egg. It is... changing somehow. All the Gliders sleep and float in dreams, but the most powerful magic-users sleep suspended in the air above the Egg itself.” 

“But you escaped Blue Mountain?” 

“I... I flew! I had to. She sent me into the grove to find the Preservers. She wants to bind our bodies in endless sleep so that she may feed on our powers like a blood-bat. But I fled! I saw the clear sky and I raced north. I remembered... you and Tyldak... and I thought... perhaps you lived still. Perhaps you could give me shelter from her. Ohh, she is very angry now. I can feel her. She knows that I have fled beyond the grove. She tries to call me back. Please... please help me. Let me stay here. Chase her from my mind.” 

Rayek frowns. It is all Two-Edge can do not to throttle him. 

“Muckin’ Glider!” he shouts at Rayek. “Can’t you see? This is her newest game, and this maiden is just another pawn in her riddles! Send her back to Winnowill and she wins! Send her to Rain – to Rain! Make him chase away the voices.” 

Rayek considers it. Then he nods slowly. “But you will leave your hawk here, Aroree.” 

* * * 

The Wolfriders gather around the Glider. Rain lays his hands on her cheeks and chases away the voices. Tyldak ventures close with Dewshine. Windkin floats in the air, tethered to Dewshine’s waist. Something happens. Aroree sees the child and a strange light strikes her eyes. Winnowill is working through her still. She lunges at the baby, weeping madly. She flies up, away from the tribal gathering outside the Palace. 

But she cannot escape. Tyldak and Rayek seize her, drag her down to the ground. They want to kill her now, the Master of the Palace and the angry father. But Rain only seizes her anew and continues healing. At length Aroree’s wild screams begin to fade to whimpers and choking sobs. 

“Forgive me, forgive me.” 

“Why, Aroree?” Dewshine cries. “Why did you try to steal my baby?” 

“I... I... forgive me! I only saw a floater... a chance to please my lord... a chance to escape. Perhaps... if I could give her a new life to raise... she would let me go.” 

“Betrayer!” Tyldak rages. “You would have given that snake my son!” 

“Shh. All of you,” Rain says. “Aroree is not herself. But she will be... soon.” 

Two-Edge hovers nearby, watching closely as Rain heals Aroree. He watches the madness slowly begin to flee from her eyes. Oh, how brightly they shine now. The shadows are all but gone now. 

Calmly now, Aroree tells them all more. Winnowill is trying to build upon the Great Egg. She wants to transform it into some sort of twin to the castle-ship. She wants to create a completely new world around the Egg... a world in which all sleep but she... a world where she rules all dreams. She plans to bind the Gliders in wrapstuff... and then she plans to strike out at all the magic-users... the Mother of Memory and the Sun Folk, Swift Keen-Blade’s twins... and the High One herself. 

At this Timmain snorts loudly. How much does the wolf understand? Two-Edge knows all about her transformation to elf and then to wolf. Suntop told him. He understands. He too would love to change his form, to shed his strange halfling form and take on the clean body of a forest animal. Perhaps out of everyone, Two-Edge understands why Timmain did not remain as elf for more than a few minutes. 

“We have to stop the Black Snake,” Swift says. “We cannot sit here and wait. She will send another to complete the task Aroree abandoned. She will capture Savah anew – but in body as well as in spirit. She will come after our lifemates and our cubs. Rayek, Tyldak, Suntop, Venka, Windkin, Ekuar... she will take all of them as her slaves. And as for the rest of us, we wolf-blooded elves, and the magic-less Go-Backs – there will be only torment and death. We must act now.” 

“Aye,” One-Eye nods. 

“Tell us what to do, Swift,” Nightfall says. 

Swift forms a plan. She, Rayek, Skywise, the twins, and Redlance and Nightfall are going south to destroy Winnowill’s power. Their most powerful magic-users and their most fearless warriors – a good match. As the eldest Wolfrider, Rain will act as chief among the remaining elves. One call from Suntop and they will come down to help their kin. 

But then Rayek approaches Two-Edge. He wants him to help the explorers... to show them a way into Blue Mountain. 

“No... I cannot,” he stammers. “Don’t make me go back to her.” 

“We need you, Two-Edge. You have lived free of her for three years. Aroree is in no shape to guide us. She must stay here and recover her strength.” 

“No... no... don’t make me...” 

“Two-Edge,” Ekuar asks gently. “Do you want Winnowill to come for us... and steal our babies?” 

No... no. Not the babies. Not little Windkin and the Go-Back fawns. Not Suntop and Venka. “Yes,” Two-Edge stammers. “I will come help you.” 

 

* * * 

They set off. Rayek rides a stag, and Suntop sits behind him in the saddle. Venka rides her young wolf Patch alongside Swift astride her grisled wolf Skyfrost. Each day the snow is lighter, and each dawn the morning frost melts faster. 

“I think I know now why Winnowill wishes to focus the power of the Gliders on the Egg,” Rayek says one day. “She means to turn it into a new Palace. Much as I’ve always said that the power of the Gliders might well be enough to make the Palace fly again, I believe Winnowill plans to build a twin to the Palace from within that great stone Scroll of Colors. By Yurek – Winnowill has the right idea but she goes about it the wrong way. If only we could heal her... she could be a match for Timmain.” 

“And she’d kill us all before she’d let us lay a healing hand on her,” Swift says. “Remember that.” 

Soon they can spot Blue Mountain as a tiny speck on the horizon. Soon it grows larger until Two-Edge recognizes the northeastern slope of the pyramid. 

He can feel her... in his mind. She senses him... she is calling to him. 

“Two-Edge?” Suntop asks. 

His newfound sending gifts have become a curse now. 

“Two-Edge...” 

She is calling... whispering so seductively... 

“Two-Edge... my son...” 

“NO! No, I won’t be your pawn.” 

“Two-Edge...” 

“Two-Edge!” Rayek cries. But Two-Edge doesn’t hear him. 

He only hears her now. 

Sobbing, he flees. He cannot stay with them. He can go no closer to the mountain. She will sink her claws into her and never let him out of the cell again. He has to run. He has to hide. He will crawl deep under the ground, so far under the earth that even she cannot find him. 

He abandons them less than a day away from Blue Mountain. He tell himself that he is helping them, by drawing Winnowill’s sending star away. But he is wrong. 

They come on their hawks. The seven remaining elves of the Chosen Eight. Winnowill has spotted the elves in her mind. Two-Edge did not flee fast enough. And yet... had he lingered only a day longer... he could have protected his new family from the attack. 

The Chosen Eight strike. They don’t want Two-Edge. No, they want Suntop. Venka is nothing, Winnowill coos later. It would be best for all if the Chosen Eight can kill her in the attack. But Suntop is the link. He is the last missing piece in her newest puzzle. 

The Chosen Eight strike. The adults defend the babies. They know the hawks’ attacks now, and they hide in the trees so the hawks cannot pluck them off the ground. They blind two of the birds. They save Suntop. But the Chosen Eight take Swift instead. 

No! Not the Keen-Blade. She will not survive her trip to Blue Mountain this time. 

Two-Edge sees it all. But he is too afraid to stand out. He doesn’t want to be caught by the hawks again. They will tear him to pieces this time. So he watches from the shadows as Swift is taken away. 

“Mother! Mother!” the twins cry. 

They have taken away the babies’ mother. No. No more children will cry because of Winnowill. Two-Edge cannot face them after his failure. But he can help them recover their mother. 

Two-Edge turns and runs towards Blue Mountain. 

 

* * * 

Two-Edge slips in to Blue Mountain from the northeastern flank. Carefully picking his way through the old tunnels, he seeks out Winnowill’s chambers. The humans who once roamed free – the humans who once loved her – are now sealed behind spiked stone bars... just as Two-Edge once was. Old ones... young ones... all locked, unable to do more than watch Winnowill’s evil with mournful eyes. 

In the smallest cage, tucked into a natural recess in the rocks, Swift lies on the floor. Her prison is so small that she cannot stand, even if she had the strength. She is exhausted by the physical attack, and Winnowill’s psychic torments. Her eyes are distant. Her skin is white. Two-Edge recognizes all the signs. She has fought with Winnowill for over a full day, but she hasn’t the strength to go on. Now and then she locks eyes with the humans in their cages. One of the older men smiles gently. It seems to them that a young spirit-child has been imprisoned. 

They are right, in their way. 

Two-Edge doesn’t dare send. So he whispers. “Swift-elf, Keen-Blade.” 

“Two-Edge? Where were you...? The hawks...” 

“Shh. Your kin are coming.” 

A dark shadow appears against the far wall. Two-Edge retreats. 

“Two-Edge...” Swift pleads. 

No... he cannot face her. He will have to wait until she is gone. 

But Winnowill does not come alone. Two of the Chosen Eight are there. Reevol and... Kureel, he realizes. Winnowill gestures to the cage. Reevol has some rudimentary rock-shaping powers, and he melts the bars away. Swift tries to rise, but she is too tired. Reevol and Kureel seize her and drag her out behind Winnowill. 

“Two-Edge...” Swift moans softly. Winnowill glances back into the shadows. She knows Two-Edge is there. But she knows he cannot face her. She smiles smugly. And Two-Edge remains in the darkness, shivering with terror. 

 

* * * 

He follows them all the way to the Egg Chamber. The Egg is slowly changing, shaping. Paralyzed Gliders float everywhere. Swift lies on one of the fur-covered benches. Her eyes dart around. But she cannot move. She cannot even move her lips. She is paralyzed as surely as the others. 

Winnowill sits at her side. “I know you think me a monster, Swift. But I have only the highest hopes for our kind. I only want the best for all of us. Don’t you see? The Egg is the answer. The Palace lies dead and useless. But two more layers are even now being added to the Egg – eight in all. The Egg will be the new castle-ship. It will travel to the Frozen Mountains and absorb the Palace of the High Ones – along with the attendant spirits bound to the time and world in which it exists. All living, pure-blooded magic-users, all healers and gloaters, fire-makers and shapers of every kind will then be called to the Egg. With that much power we will escape this World of Two Moons! Wrapped in Preserver cocoons, all but myself shall travel in endless sleep among the stars. I shall make certain that former grievous errors are not repeated. Only in dreams will we visit other worlds, take on other shapes, experience through other. I shall permit no physical risks to be taken. No quest, no battles, no blending of strange blood with our own. But before we leave, the Egg’s power shall erase every trace of the Firstcomers’ great blunder!” 

And then his dark mother smiles. “Your tribe will perish. But for you I have a gift. Your lifemate... your son... even your meddling daughter, all are pure-blooded and powerful magic-users. It would grieve me to see them suffer at losing you. So I shall make you pure, perfect and eternal like the stars. And then you can fly with us.” 

Two-Edge shudders. But he cannot act. He dares not. 

Winnowill’s fingertips caress Swift’s temples. 

“I will purify you...” 

Swift cannot move. She cannot scream. All she can do is let the tears stream down her face as Winnowill’s slowly, painfully, draws out every trace of the mortal wolf element in her blood. 

* * * 

Swift lies helpless on the bed. She has lain there for three days now. Winnowill has tortured her in agonizingly drawn-out sessions. More than once, she drew Swift to the edge of death with her “cleansing”, only to heal Swift so she could begin again. Swift is visibly gaunter now... she has neither eaten nor slept for four days. If only Winnowill would leave. But while she sits so proudly next to her prisoner, Two-Edge cannot act. 

Two-Edge senses the others. The Wolfriders have answered Suntop’s cry for help. 

He cannot face Winnowill. But he can help the others enter the mountain. 

He runs to the side door near Winnowill’s chambers and opens it. He retreats quickly. He does not want the elves to find him. He cannot face them. Not until Swift is safe. 

The rescue party charges down his tunnel. Skywise leads the way, followed by Suntop, Venka, Rayek, Rain, Clearbrook, One-Eye, Strongbow and Moonshade. Warriors and elders, yes... good. 

Will they find Swift in time? The transformation is almost complete. The Egg is almost finished. The tunnels are collapsing, twisting... shaping. Two-Edge struggles to escape the side tunnel he took back to the Egg Chamber before it smushes him like a fly between fingertips. 

Two-Edge hears Strongbow sending a call to Winnowill’s Door. The Door opens, then closes anew. Two-Edge hears a distant cry of pain. Someone has been caught in the rock. 

But the others are still coming. They have now been separated by the shifting rock. But they are coming, drawn by Swift’s silent cries of pain. 

It will all be over soon... one way or another. 

* * * 

Rayek breaks into the Egg Chamber. He is well ahead of the others. Winnowill smiles warmly. “Ah... my friend, at last. Welcome, dark brother. Come see the work I have done.” 

Two-Edge takes up his position high above the chamber. He watches as Rayek take two steps towards Winnowill, then falters. No! Why does he slow? Has the snake worked her magic already? 

“What have you done to her?” he manages to gasp. 

“Rayek...” Winnowill whispers seductively. “Dear brother of my soul...” 

No! Two-Edge rages silently. He knows that tone. He remembers how she used it against his father. 

“Release her...” Rayek stammers. 

“Of course, dear heart, if you so wish it.” She draws on her gown, to better expose a long leg. “You see I have purified her... as a gift to her. She can now live forever... just like you.” 

Rayek’s eyes widen. “Like me?” 

“Yes... you understand, do you not? The Egg is complete – a perfect new vessel for all pure-blooded elves. We will travel the stars together... all of us.” 

Rayek staggers closer, Winnowill wraps her arms around his shoulders teasingly. “The stars beckon, do they not?” She brushes his cheekbones with her fingertips. “Dear Rayek... are you truly willing to remain earthbound?” 

“No...” he licks his lips nervously. “No... we belong in the stars...” 

“Yes... I see you know my heart. And now that you are here with me... there will be no more withholding, no more waiting...” 

She eases off his headband. She frees his hair and runs her fingers through it. 

“Can your primitive mate there truly understand the fires that drive your soul?” 

“You... cannot deceive me... snake...” Rayek stammers. 

Oh, he is fighting. His is a strong will. But none can resist her. 

“Join me, Rayek. Under our guidance the Egg will soar freely through the heavens. And you will be free of all this world’s constraints... you will be a High One!” 

“And Swift...” 

“She will see all the stars with us. She will raise your children to cherish all the powers of our kind. The five of us... we will be as one... Rayek...” 

She kisses his lips. He returns the embrace. At length they part and Rayek stammers one final, feeble denial. 

“Rayek....” Winnowill purrs. “Join with me... I have completed Swift... let me complete you...” 

“Yes...” Rayek bent his lips to her throat. “I see now...” 

Two-Edge bit his lip to keep from screaming in horror. Will they join right beneath Swift’s paralyzed body? 

Suddenly Rayek draws the dagger at his side. He plunges it deep into Winnowill’s breast. She cries out and collapses to the floor. 

**RAIN!** Rayek sends desperately. **We need you now!** He falls at Swift’s side. “Swift... Swift... lifemate... can you hear me?” 

Swift can only cry more silent tears. 

“Traitor...” Winnowill stammers. She yanks the dagger from her breast. Already she is healing herself. “I will see you burn!!” 

Rayek winces under the power of her black sendings. But he does not leave Swift’s side. 

“Winnowill!” Rain shouts as he races into the Egg Chamber. The twins follow behind him. Winnowill turns from Rayek and shoots terrible black sending stars into their very minds. But Rain and the cubs hold their ground. 

**Winnowill!** he sends clearly. **A healing is needed here! It has been needed for a very long time.** 

**Now the hurts will stop!** Suntop sends. 

**A healing!** the three send together. 

Winnowill screams. She crumples to the floor. 

Rain breaks from the cubs to heal Swift. In a moment she is freed of Winnowill’s spell. She staggers to her feet and adds her own sending stars to the cry. 

**A healing! No more bad dreams.** 

Winnowill is near total collapse. Two-Edge seizes his chance. He leaps down to join them. He adds his sending to the others’. 

“NO! Filth! You came to see me fall!” Winnowill screams. 

**A healing, Mother!** 

“NOOO!” 

Still bleeding a little, worn out from the psychic duel, Winnowill’s strength leaves her. She is fading fast. She cannot run. She cannot hide. The game is almost over. At last she falls over, unconscious. Quickly the Preserver Two-Edge hasn’t noticed until now sweeps in. It bundles her tight in wrapstuff. Then Rain lays his hands on the cocoon and continues his healing. 

Rocks begin to cascade from the ceiling. Rayek helps Swift to her feet. They stare at Two-Edge. He turns away. 

“We have to get out of here!” Swift cries. “Without Winnowill something’s gone wrong.” 

“The Gliders!” Rayek looks up at the sleeping elves. “It is their doing. They are bringing this mountain – this Egg – down!” 

“Rain! Rain. You can’t heal her now. Rain – snap out of it. We have to get out of of here. 

“What about Skywise?” Suntop cries. 

“Skywise? Where is he?” 

She sends silently. Then she turns back to Two-Edge. “Take her!” she says. She points to the cocoon. “Take her out of here. She cannot die. She must live, so Rain can finish the healing. Rain! Wake up. Come out of the trance.” 

Rain finally awakes from the healing trance. More rocks fall around them now. Two-Edge gathers up the cocoon in his arms. 

She is so light. 

“Rayek,” Swift turns. “Can you fly Rain and the twins out?” 

Rayek nods. “I can – just barely. But you –” 

“I’m going to get Skywise.” 

“You are still so weak.” 

“I know his soul. I can find him. Take Rain and the cubs. Go. I’ll find you outside.” 

She and Rayek embrace quickly. Their tears stain each others' cheeks. Then Rayek is gone, Rain on his back, a cub in either arm. Swift turns to Two-Edge. “GO!” 

Two-Edge turns. He runs. The walls are shivering now. Everything will fall soon. Two-Edge turns the corner, disappears down a buckling staircase. No, he won’t go outside. He won’t see the sun again. 

He goes deeper, deeper, until he finds Winnowill’s old chambers. They are mutated now. The humans who were once imprisoned there are all dead, crushed by the rocks. All that remains are twisted symbols and shapes, crumbling into dust. 

Two-Edge sits. He lays Winnowill’s cocoon in his lap. 

“Soon... Mother...” he croons softly. “It will be over soon.” 

* * * 

He hears distant voices... as if in a dream. 

“We’re out!” 

“Thank High Ones, it’s almost ov–” 

“Whoa! We’ll never get down!” 

“Swift! There you are! There was no way back in!” 

“Rayek!” 

“Come, I will lower you both to the ground. 

“And Door too. We can’t leave him” 

“What?! No, you oaf! It’s too mmuu-uucccch–” 

“There’s my lass! I’ve got you!” 

“Ooophh... Rayek...” 

“Unh... here, Swift... though a little worse for wear...” 

**Two-Edge!** Swift’s sending star touches him. **We are all outside! Where are you?** 

**Go away...** he send back. **Leave me.** 

She senses the truth. **Are you mad? You two can’t stay in there! She can’t die! She’ll only infect the world with her black spirit! You know this! Two-Edge!** 

He locks her from his mind. He looks down at the cocoon. 

The Egg is swaying in the air now. 

Two-Edge tears open the cocoon. Winnowill yawns softly as the magical sleep leaves her. She looks up. Her eyes are blue now. 

“Mother...” he whispers. 

The Egg falls.


	3. Part Three

Pain. Agony. Such pain he can find no words for it. Two-Edge drifts back into awareness. He is lying on his side, atop a broken bed of rocks. He is half-buried by pieces of blue-gray stone. Such agony. How long has he lain there? A day... two, three? He twists and turns to his side. Winnowill is lying next to him. She lies on her back, one arm thrown over her head. Blood has dried on her lips and chin. Part of her skull is oddly misshapen under her stream of black hair. Her rib cage is flattened by several large rocks. From the stiffness in her arms and the colour of her face, she has lain there for at least two days. 

Winnowill is dead. 

But Two-Edge lives. 

His mother is dead. 

But he lives! 

It is over... and she has won again... one last time. 

* * * 

Two-Edge waits to die... he waits. But he doesn’t die. Clouds gather over the mountain rubble as night falls. At length rain begins to stream down over the dust and rocks. The rain revives him. The urge to die wanes, and he remembers... 

Death is weakness. 

He pulls himself out of the rubble. The rocks that killed his mother only wounded him. He limps a little... his leg may be broken... or perhaps he has simply bruised the bone. At length he straightens. He is remarkably unharmed. Credit his troll blood. 

He begins to pick up rocks and stack them over Winnowill’s body. He will emtomb her as the trolls do their dead, as the Gliders did their dead. Strange... how elf and troll can be one in death. 

He buries Winnowill. He leaves her there. He begins to walk. He doesn’t know where exactly. Perhaps he will find the Wolfriders... perhaps not. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore... if he wants anything now. 

His mother is dead. 

He heard a weak moan... carried on the wind. 

A dying animal. 

Two-Edge follows the sound. He scrambles over a rise of rubble. He expect to find a small ravvit, or maybe a human. 

Instead he finds an elf. 

The elf lies on the ground below the stone chair. Why... is it Egg, the elfin shaper of the Great Egg? But that creature was always pure gray – gray skin, gray eyes, gray clothes. This elf is naked, clothed in mere tatters of gray leather, his long hair soft golden. Two-Edge spots a broken metal skullcap lying on the ground. Yes, it is Egg. So he is a living, breathing elf under all of Winnowill’s magic. 

Egg is moaning. He is trying to pull himself up. His legs are clearly broken, as is one of his arms. He gasps, coughs, and passes out. He never even saw Two-Edge. 

Two-Edge limps away. Blue Mountain is gone, but his underground tunnels are surely still intact. 

* * * 

Dawn has arrived. Egg is near death. Strange, no scavenger birds have gathered to pick the flesh off the dead and dying. Perhaps they are too afraid. Perhaps they can sense the foul magic that hangs in the air. 

Two-Edge scoops Egg from the ground. The Glider is even lighter than Winnowill. 

He lays Egg on the stretcher of soft leather and wood. It is a fine stretcher – one which took him the better part of the night to make from a blanket and some scraps of leather. It will make a fine bed for the patient. 

Egg moans softly. Two-Edge struggles to strap the half-delirious Glider to the stretcher. His arm aches. Perhaps he injured it as well as his leg. 

“Who...?” Egg moans. 

Two-Edge pauses. He has never heard the creature speak before. He wasn’t certain if he could. 

“You are alive. The mountain collapsed.” 

“Unhhh...” 

Egg drifts into unconsciousness again. Perhaps it is a blessing. Two-Edge picks up the handles of the stretcher and drags the Glider back to his tunnel entrance. 

Egg is so helpless... no stronger than a cub himself. 

It feels nice to have someone to tend to. 

“Mmm... no, you have not won yet, dear Mother,” he whispers. “Not yet. I have the last hand to play in this game... and I will end it. I will fix your broken toy. I will have the last word.” 

* * * 

Two-Edge holds up Egg’s head as he feeds him the hot broth. Egg drinks the broth clumsily. Liquid runs down his chin and splashes on his chest. 

“Messy... messy,” Two-Edge chides as he sets the bowl aside and cleans Egg’s face with a soft leather cloth. 

“Thank you...” Egg moans. 

“No worries, no worries. This ends the game... my dear mother thinks she could die and escape the end of the match. Hah! No... this game I win.” 

“So... tired.” 

“Mm-hm. Both your legs are broken. Left arm too.” Two-Edge turns back to the fire he kindles in the little hearth. His underground home is a little too small for two people. But it will do. “Egg is broken as Blue Mountain. But I’ll set Egg right.” 

“Aurek...” 

“Huh?” Two-Edge looks up. 

“My... name... is Aurek.” 

Two-Edge smiles. “Aurek, then. Yes... all her names are dead down here.” 

“The others...?” 

“All dead or gone. Elves and humans. All gone.” 

“Winnowill?” 

“Dead. She didn’t want to lose. She died, but I lived. She kept me alive... somehow... she let me live.” Light flares in Two-Edge’s eyes. “Yes. She could have healed herself. She could have. But she let me live instead. And she think she’s won. But I won’t let her win. See... this is my game now!” 

Aurek blinks. And he seems to understand, for a slow smile tugs at his lips. 

* * * 

Aurek is healing very slowly. Two-Edge store of food is all gone. But he knows how to hunt. And so he heads out and begins to stalk game. It is hard work. Most of the game has left the area. He has to cross the Death Water River to the Forbidden Grove. There he finds abundant game. On the very edge of the forest, Two-Edge spots a deer drinking from one of the tributaries of the Death Water River. One precision throw of his hammer brings the doe down. He and Aurek can feast for several days now. 

He hears the scream of a giant hawk overhead. 

A shudder runs down his spine. Winnowill... 

No. No, she is dead. He is safe now. That hawk is nothing more than a bird now. 

“Rrrrawwwwkk!” the hawk cries. 

“Bah!” Two-Edge growls. “Go back your nest!” 

He hears a rustle in the trees. “Skywise?” a familiar voice calls. “Oh, Skyw–” 

Two-Edge stares up at the Glider. 

“Maiden... Aroree...” 

“Two-Edge. What – where are the Wolfriders? They left the Palace days ago. I could not go with them then... I feared facing her... Winnowill. But then, then, as the days passed I couldn’t stay in the Palace. The Go-Backs were kind enough... in their way. But I had to go. I had to go help my little friend Skywise. And so I came here. But... but... nothing – nothing remained! Blue Mountain – what has happened to it? My people – the Chosen Eight? Winnowill? The Wolfriders? Oh, tell me, Two-Edge? Do the tumbled rocks cover Skywise’s bones as well as the Gliders’?” 

“The Wolfriders... I don’t know. They were all outside before the mountain fell. I spent many days under the mountain. I think... one night... a few days ago... something was here...” Two-Edge shrugs. “I thought I felt something. Bah. The Wolfriders are gone now. Long gone. Probably back to the Frozen Mountains or Rayek’s cursed Sorrow’s End... no matter... they’re gone.” 

“And Winnowill?” 

“Dead.” 

“Ohhh... I have hoped for such a day... and yet feared it.” 

“Aye.” He nods. He understands. “But she hasn’t come back. Her spirit has flown. Probably in the castle-ship now... mild as you please... else she’d be here to torment us still. She thinks she’s won the game now.” 

“And the Chosen Eight? And all the others?” 

“All dead.” 

“And you.... Two-Edge?” 

There is such kindness in her sad eyes. 

Tears welled in his eyes. “My mother is dead. For all the pain she caused... she was my mother! I wanted to die too. But there is something that keeps me here... keeps me alive. One of your kin.” 

“A survivor?” Aroree clapped her hands. “Oh... is there a living Glider free of Lord Winnowill’s poison?” 

Two-Edge nods gruffly. “Aurek. The Egg.” 

“Egg? Aurek? Oh....” 

“You know him?” 

Aroree nods. “Oh, yes. He is... I think he is my grandfather... or my great-uncle... but it has been so long since he became one with the Egg. And he is alive? And aware?” 

Two-Edge nods. A bashful smile touches his face. “You can come... join us... help me... help him heal.” 

Aroree smiles... tremulously. “Yes... a healing...” 

* * * 

“Aroree...” Aurek smiles weakly when Aroree kneels at his bedside. Now there was almost no room in Two-Edge’s quarters. The halfling raises his pick and sets to work hollowing out new space for them. 

“Aurek... sometimes I think I only imagined my memories of you... as you were before.” Tears well in her eyes. “Tell me... please. I know you are my close kin. But I have forgotten... how?” 

“My sister Esvahri... you are her granddaughter. Yes, I remember now. You are my great-niece.” 

Aroree weeps and hugs him, gently. “Uncle! I have a family at last. Oh, thank you, Two-Edge! Thank you for finding me.” 

An alien feeling stirs Two-Edge’s old heart. He turns away abruptly. “You found me, maiden.” 

Stupid, senseless troll, he thinks. What maiden would ever accept his love? Certainly not a near High One such as Aroree. No... no... I could never... never dare... never ask... 

Two-Edge continues to chip away a new seat into the rock. He sticks to what he knows. It is easier that way. 

* * * 

Every day Aurek grows stronger. Aroree hunts with her talon-whip, and a diet of rich meaty stew sets Aurek on his feet sooner than expected. As summer turns to autumn, he joins Aroree in the hunt, while Two-Edge stokes the fire to cook what they bring home. 

The nights grow colder as winter approaches. Aurek sleeps well at night on his bed – the stretcher now set into a rocky niche to serve as mattress. But Aroree never seems to sleep. She turns down Two-Edge’s bed and sits up instead. 

**Don’t you sleep, maiden?** he asks one night as Aurek slumbers. 

**I cannot.** She looks away. **Lord Winnowill... destroyed my ability to dream long ago. Without dreams... sleep is an empty pit from which there is no escape.** 

**Don’t you get tired?** 

**Very tired... sometimes. But elves can go forever without sleep if need be. And there were none in Blue Mountain whose dreams I could ask to share. No one dreamt in Blue Mountain, towards the end.** 

**I did. But only nightmares.** 

**And now?** she asks. Her eyes seem to pierce his soul. 

Now it is Two-Edge who looks away. **Some other dreams... sometimes. The healer Rain... he spared me from many sleepless nights. I... I would offer to share my dreams with you, maiden... but I couldn’t risk sharing a nightmare with you. You do not know what it is to truly suffer at Winnowill’s hand. I do not want you to find out.** 

It isn’t a lie. But it is only a half-truth. There are other dreams he does not want Aroree to share. Dreams of a beautiful golden-haired maiden... 

**It’s cold... don’t you want another blanket?** 

**No...** Aroree sends back. **I am fine.** 

* * * 

Two-Edge is working at chipping out a new chamber for his cave when Aroree flies in. Her leathers are torn across her right leg, and a deep gash runs down her calf. Her hair is mussed, falling out of the normally tidy bun she keeps. 

“Maiden! What happened?” 

“I...” she stammers. “I was hunting. I... I found a buck near the river and I struck with my talon-whip. I had never used it on so large a prey. The buck fought the claw in its neck, and it pulled me by the talon-whip’s rope. I fell. The buck tried to trample me... but I... I am fine now.” 

“You’re wounded!” 

“It’s not too bad...” Aroree sits down. 

Two-Edge draws water from the ever-flowing stream that runs through a vein in the wall. He puts the waterpot over the fire to heat it, then turns back to Aroree. 

“Where is Aurek? Why wasn’t he there to help you?” 

“He was hunting elsewhere... no...it’s all right...” Aroree pulls back her tattered leather pant-leg. The gash is not quite as deep as Two-Edge feared. Soon the water is sufficently heated, and Two-Edge wets a piece of leather and begins to daub away the blood. 

“You shouldn’t be hunting by yourself.” 

“I am one of the Chosen Eight – at least I was. I am used to it.” 

“But it is dangerous.” 

Aroree smiles. “You are worried about me.” 

Two-Edge flushes. “Of course. You... and Aurek... we need... we...” He looks away, disgusted with himself that he cannot find the words. 

Aroree touches his cheek. He flinches. 

“I think you are family too,” Aroree says simply. 

* * * 

Soon a year has passed since Blue Mountain fell. Aurek wants a new home closer to the open sky, and Two-Edge helps him build a small house above ground and several large chambers underground. Aroree hunts constantly. She has cut her hair short now. It floats about her face softly. She seems lighter now. Her hair had held her down for so long. Now she floats free. Now she smiles often. 

“Why do you always wear your gloves?” Aroree asks one day. Two-Edge flinches. 

“You never take them off. Not even when you sleep. Why?” 

Two-Edge looks down at his oiled leather gauntlets. “I’ve... always worn them...” 

“They hide something, don’t they?” 

Two-Edge clenches his fists. “I’m sorry,” Aroree says quickly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

Two-Edge reaches down and tugs off one of the gloves. Puckered scars lace his palm. Aroree gasps. “Ohh, Two-Edge. What happened? Did Winnowill...?” 

Two-Edge nods. “They were the first... the first of many.... My father... she killed him in front of me. I fought against the cage bars. The spikes... they dug into my hands...” 

“Why didn’t you have Rain heal the scars?” 

He shakes his head. “No. I want to keep them. I need to remember.” 

Aroree takes his calloused hand and presses it to her cheek. Her face is so small set into the curve of his hand. Her skin is so soft... so warm. 

Two-Edge pulls his hand away abruptly. He turns away. 

“I’m sorry, Two-Edge,” she says again. 

“No... it’s not your fault, maiden. It’s... my pain... my...” he closes his eyes tight. How can he ever confess the truth? She would only laugh. Or turn away in horror. She belongs with another High One... someone like Aurek. So Two-Edge tugs his glove back on. 

The moons wax and wane. Aurek and Aroree spent more and more time together. Two-Edge disappears deeper under the mountain every day, rebuilding half-collapsed tunnels and recreating a fraction of his old tunnels. He is certain his maiden will not miss him. She is probably happier with Aurek. They may well be secret lovemates. Why not? Uncle and niece among the trolls is a frequent coupling. 

He is tortured by the memory of Aroree’s warm skin. 

He digs deeper under the mountain. He disappears for moons at a time. He digs tunnels to nowhere. It soothes his troubled mind... his painful dreams. 

Aroree is always there in his thoughts. She has almost replaced Winnowill now. 

One day he chips off a large flake of stone in the course of his excavation. He looks down at it a moment, then sits on the floor and starts to shape it with the smaller chisel in his toolbelt. He scratches and chips and molds until a silhouette begins to appear 

He will make a present for her. 

He emerges from the tunnels days later. He find Aroree outside the little house. She turns and sees him. She flies towards her. A grin lights her up face. 

“Two-Edge! Where have you been? I worried.... I thought...” 

He holds up a bundle of soft cloth. “For you.” 

Aroree takes it hesitantly. She is puzzled. Slowly, she begins to unwrap it. 

A smalls statuette, the length of her forearm, is revealed. It is a flawless portrait of Aroree as Two-Edge first saw her, wearing the crown of the Chosen Eight, her leathers trimmed with elegant stone feathers. 

“Oh, Two-Edge... you made this?” 

“You see? No rock-shaper can match the work of a troll who sets his heart to it.” There is a hint of challenge in his voice. He is daring Aurek to beat this gift. 

Tears glint in her eyes. “Oh, Two-Edge, it is wonderful. Is this where you’ve been?” 

He nods. 

“You should have sent to me. I was very worried. I thought you might have been hurt... or... that you had left us.” 

Two-Edge lowers his gaze. “Would you care... if I did?” 

“Of course I would. How can you say that? You are my family. You found me... when I was all alone, completely lost. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“You have Aurek.” 

“But Aurek isn’t you, Two-Edge.” 

Two-Edge looks up at her, puzzled. 

Aroree looks over the statuette again. “Never... I’ve never had anyone make something like this for me. Why, Two-Edge? What... why did you make this now?” 

He shrugs. “Because... I thought you would like it.” 

Aroree drops down and hugs him quickly. “Oh, I love it. I will always treasure this, Two-Edge.” 

Two-Edge flushes. He turns away. “Then... I’m happy... maiden,” he stammers out. 

* * * 

Two-Edge wakes up in the middle of night. His lies on his stone bed deep under Aurek’s house. It is nice and warm underground. The harsh winds don’t touch him here. 

He feels an added warmth up against him. He turns. 

Aroree lies next to him on the fur cover. Her eyes are shut, and her breathing is regular. Her shoulders tremble a little with cold. Two-Edge silently drapes an extra fur over her body. 

He swears he hears Winnowill laughing in the bad of his mind. 

“Fool... do you think she would ever love you?” 

Go away... 

“She is a High One, like me. And you could never hope to have her.” 

Leave me alone... 

“You’re nothing but mud, Two-Edge. You’ll never capture a High One’s heart.” 

Two-Edge closes his eyes tight, squeezing out silent tears. 

* * * 

Two-Edge spends more and more time underground. He disappears for months while Aroree and Aurek rebuild. Aurek has learned to tend plants inside his house. He hunts and fishes. He learned to weave together soft cloth from nearby plants and starts to wear linen shirts. He looks more and more like a Glider of old Blue Mountain. He looks like a High One. 

Two-Edge continues to dig. He creates huge chambers underground, chambers that lead to nowhere. He chisels elaborate bas reliefs depicting the old glory days of Blue Mountain. He unearths deep red jewels and cuts and polishes them into necklaces and bracelets that he would never dare give her. 

One day he comes back to Aurek’s house and finds Aurek and Aroree laughing together as they sit by the table. Two-Edge turns away scornfully. It is all he can do not to snap Aurek in two right then and there. 

But he does not go back underground. Instead he seeks out his bed in the lower level of the house and falls into a deep sleep. He wakes up in the middle of the night. Aroree is sitting at his side. 

“I wish you wouldn’t go away so often,” she whispers. “I worry about you.” 

Two-Edge fumbles for words. “Then... I’ll stay here, maiden.” 

He keeps his word. He stays near the house. And as the days turn to months, he finds himself waking up in the middle of the night to find Aroree asleep at his side. 

“I thought you didn’t sleep,” he stammers one morning. 

“Some nights... I feel so tired... it feels good to sleep.” 

“Without dreams?” 

“I... I think I have dreams... little shreds of dreams now...” 

“What sort of dreams?” 

“I don’t know. Mostly memories... bits of memories from the day before. It’s not much... but it’s better than darkness. And you, Two-Edge?” she smiles. “Have your nightmares begun to fade?” 

He shrugs. “I have... other dreams... a little more often.” He lowers his eyes so she won’t read his thoughts in his gaze. 

Fool.... Winnowill taunts him. Two-Edge shuts her voice from his mind. 

Another year passes. 

* * * 

Five years have passed since Blue Mountain fell. 

Five years since his mother died... five years since he was freed from his games, and plunged into another kind of agony. Two-Edge continues to dig under the mountain, rediscovering old passageways. Aroree continues to haunt his dreams. 

If only she were a troll maiden. If only he were an elf. 

The most painful dream of all visits him regularly now. He watches from afar as Winnowill holds a little troll-baby in her arms. Smelt hovers nearby, his face alight with wonder. And then the dream changes, and it is Aroree who holds a little elf-baby, and Two-Edge who beams with the pride of fatherhood. 

He cannot bear much more. He is going mad anew. 

It is a warm summer day when he comes out into the sun. Aroree is standing on a rocky ledge, looking out over the valley below. Two-Edge hangs back a moment, then stumbles forward. He holds another bundle of cloth in his hands. Aroree sees him and turns around. She smiles. 

Two-Edge holds out the bundle silently, his eyes pleading. Aroree takes it and unwraps it. Inside lies a golden necklace, set with five perfectly cut rubies. 

“Two-Edge... I don’t know what to say. It’s wonderful.” 

Two-Edge looks up at her. He cannot find his voice. 

“Two-Edge?” 

He drops to one knee. 

“I... I could give you a kingdom underground... your own secret kingdom. I would make you a queen of your own underground world. I could give you Blue Mountain reborn... if you could only... accept this old troll’s suit.” 

Aroree only stares at him. She doesn’t seem to understand. 

“I could make you more powerful than Winnowill – if you could only be my lifemate.” 

Aroree blinks. And she smiles a little sadly. 

“But I don’t want all that, Two-Edge,” she says. “I don’t want a kingdom or to be Lord of Blue Mountain, or anything like that.” She reaches down and takes his gloved hand. “I only want to have a simple, peaceful life here.” 

“With Aurek,” Two-Edge challenges. 

Aroree frowns. “Aurek? No, not like that. Not with Aurek. He is my kin... nothing more. I don’t look to him like that...” she gives his hand a little squeeze. “Not like... I look to you.” 

Two-Edge blinks. He isn’t expecting that. 

Tears well in her eyes. She wipes them away. “I... I never thought...” 

“You... look to me?” he stammers. 

She is smiling now. She is laughing and weeping at the same time. “I... didn’t know... you are so different, Two-Edge... you’ve led such a strange life. I didn’t know if you even had the same... wishes... the same longings...” 

“I long for you, maiden!” Two-Edge cries. 

Aroree gives a little cry, like a baby bird. She falls to her knees and throws her arms about his neck. Suddenly her lips are on his. And then she is kissing his cheeks, she is weeping into his white hair. And he is happier than he has ever been. 

* * * 

Two-Edge has never known joining before. He has never had a chance... never had a willing partner. He resolved long ago to live life alone. But everything is different now. Now he has Aroree. It has been far too long since she knew love... but she remembers. She is a gentle tutor. 

The years pass... so many years. He loses track of them all. Sometimes the voices inside his head will not let him rest, and he goes off again, tunnelling paths to nowhere under Blue Mountain. Aroree never likes this. She comes along with him sometimes. Sometimes he needs to be alone. Yet he is never gone for long. He knows she worries about him. And he can never keep away for more than a month or two before the memory of his maiden calls him home. 

“You know,” Aurek says one day. “My father was Winnowill’s brother. That makes us first cousins. That’s only one step away from brothers, you know.” 

A lifemate, a cousin who would be his brother. 

Family. What a strange concept. 

Two-Edge knows happiness now. He knows peace. The teasing voice whispers to him less and less frequently. He has his home and he has his maiden. He needs nothing more. 

Yet there are days when he dares long for more. Ridiculous. He already has more than he ever deserved, this great mistake of a broken troll and a curious elf. 

The years pass. The summers gradually turn warmer. Is the great ice age beginning to retreat, or is it only an illusion? Life returns to Blue Mountain, most tentatively. Aroree’s Littletrill dies, but Kureel’s second fledging has survived, and she and her young become the Glider’s mounts in turn. 

* * * 

Two-Edge is coming home from another long absence. He has been far away, exploring a deep fissure in the earth halfway between Blue Mountain and the eastern shores of the landmass. He is just sitting down to a meal cooked under a crack in the rocks. The smoke rises and spirals away. Two-Edge wonders how many more days it will be before he reaches Blue Mountain. He misses her desperately now. 

Something touches his mind, like the flutter of a passing songbird. He hears Aroree. She is calling for him. No... they are all calling for him. He hears countless voices overlapping in one puzzling sending. 

**Shine brightly! Remember. All of you. Remember.** 

It is Suntop’s voice at the center of the call. 

Two-Edge falters, unsure what to do. He is only half-elf, after all. But then he feels Aroree and Aurek reach out for him, draw him into the crowd of swirling thoughts. He is absorbed into the elfin consciousness. His thoughts merge with those of others. They are somehow fighting, he understands vaguely. They are charged to remember, to shine with all their love of life, to flood a great darkness with light. 

He doesn’t understand half of it. He only knows that all his precious memories of joy are mingling with others, until he is blanketed in a golden cloud of absolute contentment, absolute belonging. 

The children of the Firstcomers have lived! 

We are the products of that terrible accident... 

We will not be forgotten... 

I am a child of the Firstcomers... Two-Edge breathes. I am both High One and troll. 

And then he hears a voice he has not heard in ages. 

Light can never be kindled in isolation... 

**Mother?** he calls. 

**Two-Edge!** her joyful cry touches him. **Is that you, my son?** 

Two-Edge reaches out with his mind. He touches Winnowill’s soul. He touches countless others. He is linked to them all. He almost feels like a pure elf. 

He belongs at last. 

* * * 

Aroree tells him everything, when he returns to Blue Mountain, an eight of days later. She tells him of Winnowill’s father Haken – Two-Edge’s grandfather! – and the psychic battle to keep him from seizing control of the Palace. She tells him of Aurek’s departure to study in the Palace itself, of the incredible power inside the regenerated castle-ship. 

“I touched Lord Winnowill’s soul,” she confesses. “And she is... she is so changed now. She is soft and kind and... and she is at peace.” 

Two-Edge smiles sadly. “Pity I was away. I would have liked to see her.” 

“Oh, but you can, Two-Edge! I’ve already sent the call to Suntop. He had can hear anyone who sends to him, even from the other side of the world. He’s going to bring the Palace back. And you can see your mother again. You can talk to her!” 

Two-Edge freezes. He had not expected that. For a moment he glowers. He doesn’t want to see Winnowill. Not now. Not after so long. And for a moment he hates Aroree for calling the Palace. 

The moment passes. He cannot deny his heart’s wishes. He needs to speak to his mother again. 

The Palace appears over the rocks the next day. Two-Edge cautiously steps over the threshold. He sees Suntop. The child is all grown up. He is taller than Two-Edge now. 

Swift and Rayek are there too, and a silver-haired maiden he doesn’t recognize. He learns she is Skywise’s second daughter. She is Suntop’s maiden. 

But Suntop is not Suntop anymore, Two-Edge learns. It seems everything has changed. 

Two-Edge feels he ought to tell him what it means to see them again, all alive and thriving. But he cannot find the words. Swift only smiles. Perhaps he doesn’t need words after all. 

“Where is Venka?” Two-Edge stammers. Fear clenches his stomach. “Is she.... She lives still, I hope?” 

Sunstream laughs. “Lives and breathes and continues to show me up in any competition that doesn’t involve long-range sending or palace-flying. Don’t look so scared, two-Edge. All of the Wolfriders are well, and none have come here to kill you. Why, can you believe no one has died since old Uncle Treestump? And we are up to our ears in cubs.” 

“Including a certainly recently re-named Wolfrider,” Swift teases. 

Two-Edge frowns. Sunstream grins a little bashfully. 

“You have a cub?” Two-Edge gasps. 

Sunstream glances over at Quicksilver. “We will... two turns of the seasons from now.” 

Sunstream takes Two-Edge to another room. He needs not ask Two-Edge’s purpose in coming to the Palace. The room is small and the shimmering light of the crystals bounce back and forth off the close-together walls until everything seems to glow. Two-Edge winces at the light. 

“What do I do?” he asks. 

“Just talk to her. Aloud or in sending. She will hear you.” 

Sunstream leaves Two-Edge. The half-troll wrings his hands, then looks up at the crystal walls. 

**Mother? Winnowill... are you here?** 

No answer comes, and Two-Edge frowns. **Mother,** he tries again. Perhaps she does not want to speak to him. Perhaps she still hates him. 

**Two-Edge? Is that you?** the voice that reaches him is soft, drowsy. **Ohh... it has been so long...** 

**Mother!” he calls desperately. **Is it true? Are you my mother again? Or are you only Winnowill... Winnowill sits so still?” 

He feels a hand touched his shoulder. He spins around, expecting Aroree. 

Winnowill stands in front of him. Her hair falls around her waist. She wears flowers in it. A long black dress covers her limbs. She seems... young, vibrant, as she must have looked long ago, before Blue Mountain warped her soul. 

Is she really there? Is he dreaming? It doesn’t matter. The lure of her blue-green eyes is impossible to resist. He collapses against her breast and weeps. She does not hesitate. Arms wrap around his back and hold him tight. “My son,” she whispers. “My sweet little son... I’m so sorry...” 

She is crying too. He can feel her tears – tingling spirit tears – on his face. “There there,” she soothes. “How I love you, Two-Edge... I’m so sorry I forgot that...” 

“Mother...” he sobs. “Mother, I’ve missed you...” 

“I’m so sorry, Two-Edge. I was ill... so ill... I didn’t know how to be your mother. But I always loved you... before that love soured to hate. Do you remember? Do you remember those days... before...” 

“I do! I do remember.” 

“My beautiful... precious little son.” 

He doesn’t know how long they embrace. At length their legs cannot hold them, and they sit on the floor, wrapped in each others’ arms. Two-Edge tells her of his lifemating to Aroree, of the life they built under Blue Mountain. Winnowill smiles proudly as she hears all his exploits. And she tells him of the joy she found in the Palace, how it has cleansed her of all her darkness. 

Two-Edge loses track of all time. Finally, Winnowill’s spirit fades back into nothingness. Two-Edge looks up. Has he been dreaming all this time? No... surely not. Her tears linger on his skin. 

Her last words to him echo in his mind. 

“Never forget – you were wanted, and loved.” 

He comes back into the Palace’s main chamber – the Scroll Chamber, it is called. Suntop, Swift, and Quicksilver are nowhere to be found. But Rayek is waiting for him by the Scroll of Colors. 

“Did you have an enlightening conversation?” 

Two-Edge wipes his damp face clumsily. He nods. Rayek only smiles enigmatically. 

The troll mumbles his thanks and starts for the door. But Rayek gestures for him to come closer. “I’ve been studying the Scroll of Colors extensively for the last few days... and I’ve found something that might interest you.” 

Two-Edge stares into the flickering Scroll hesitantly. “Now, you must remember that the future is always uncertain, and that the Scroll can only show you hints of possible futures,” Rayek tells him. “But the closer one comes to a future event, the fewer possibilities present themselves. And as I search for your possible future, this image has appeared several times.” 

Two-Edge watches the colours of the Scroll change. 

An image appears. Aroree lies back again a bed, cradling a newborn child in her arms. And Two-Edge hovers behind her shoulder, staring down at his son in wonder.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the full EQ Alternaverse at http://www.janesenese.com/swiftverse


End file.
